"I think he was, my lord."
"Think! Do you not know it? What did he want of you?"
"He wanted to make me bad, my lord."
"Ah! So you stabbed him, eh?"
"No, my lord."
"Come now, come now, girl. Look at your frock."
She did look and was silent.
"Well!" Borso continued, after a sharp glance at Angioletto. "Did your husband cut it off?"
"No, my lord, he wasn't there—but—"
"Well—but what?"